


Last Night on Earth

by amarmeme



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Age Difference, Angst with a Happy Ending, Doctor/Patient, F/M, Family Drama, Kissing, Lust at First Sight, Medical Procedures, Nervousness, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Night Stands, Sex, Sharing a Bed, tropes!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-25 22:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13844298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Sara Ryder spends her last week in the Milky Way on Earth, getting to know her mother's roots and saying goodbye as best she can. After meeting a stranger with a smoky, addictive voice, Sara throws some caution out the window and celebrates her last night on Earth. Unbeknownst to her, Harry Carlyle is about to appear in her new life time and time again, unable to shake the feeling he'd screwed up by sleeping with his friend's daughter on a whim. Or was it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vorcha_Girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorcha_Girl/gifts).



The last week of her Milky Way existence had been a whirlwind. Scott and her dad couldn't understand it; why would Sara, a space junkie, not stay on the citadel when the majority of her life had played out among the stars? Since they obviously didn't feel the same way, Sara didn't care explaining what she experienced as keenly as any wound. Her mother was gone -- damn if she wasn't going to spend her last days in the galaxy celebrating where she came from. Earth.

First there was Rio, the birthplace of Ellen Harlow Ryder. The city where her parents met. She soaked up the sun, drank and danced away her nights and ate with abandon. She visited the streets her mother must have walked on and took in as many sights and smells and sensations as she could, wishing her SAM implant could capture it all for later. Next came the Grand Canyon, a gouge marring the earth so deeply it should have made her feel small and insignificant, but somehow managed the opposite. Her mother had called it awe-inspiring once, a mere snippet of conversation over dinner in their compact citadel apartment, but Sara never forgot. Standing at the gaping edge, she imagined they felt the same rush. A flood of endless possibilities washed over her; all she needed to give was enough time and patience. She too could wear away rock.

On the last day she flew into Vancouver. It was less significant, but still the best place on the planet to catch an express trip to the citadel. Sara found herself relaxing in contemplation at the top of one of the highest hotels overlooking the English Bay, drink in hand. The swanky bar was packed, people tucked into every corner and cranny, dressed to the nines. The old-school jazz music could hardly be heard in comparison to the swell of voices. Luckily, she'd been there early. Sara welcomed the white noise as she thumbed the edge of her glass and stared out at the sun setting over the mountains and reflecting off the water. It had been a trip to remember; a good way to say goodbye to her mom.

“What would you name it?”

A man’s graveled voice shook her out of her daze. Sara looked up at a handsome stranger hovering at the edge of her table. He gestured at the glass window, but really out to the bay.

“It already has a name,” she said, unsure of what he was playing at. There was one empty seat left, across from her. His hand curved over the back. He had strong looking hands.

“May I?” he asked. Sara nodded and surveyed her view again, assuming he'd take the chair and leave her to her thoughts.

“What if you were the very first person to find it? What would you call it then?”

She pivoted her neck just an inch to catch him sitting down, taking up at her table. He rolled his crisp, white sleeves as if he was settling in, ready to start regaling her with stories.

“I'm really not very creative,” she assured, hoping he'd take the hint.

A flash of disappointment mixed with sheepishness crossed his face, and he set his tumbler down on the tabletop. “Forgive me,” he said. “It's my last night of freedom.”

Sara studied him. He looked too old to be enlisting in the Alliance -- over forty years if she had to guess. His hair was graying in an attractive way, complemented by his perma-five-o’clock shadow. Still, he could be shipping off tomorrow for duty somewhere. Sara sympathized with that entirely. Perhaps he was as alone this evening with his thoughts as she’d been the entire week. That little bit of imagined commiseration was all she needed to get out of her melancholy mood.

“Forgiven,” she said. Sara smiled at the handsome man, taking another sip of her cocktail. His encouraging grin was contagious, and she found herself playing along with the absurd pick-up line. “And I really am not creative. No one should let me name things. I had a hamster named 'Hammy’ once.”

“That’s endearing.” He laughed; the rumble of his baritone voice sent a shiver over the back of her neck. “To be fair with you, I wouldn't be any decent at deciding either.”

“So you leave it up to strangers to make the hard choices.”

He shrugged. “You looked like you have good taste, or at least a solid head on your shoulders.” He took a swing of his drink again. She imagined it was as smoky as his intoxicating voice. She wanted to hear more of it.

“So, your last day of freedom,” she teased. “You’re not getting married tomorrow are you?”

He choked a bit on his drink. “Ah, ha, no. I’m not getting married.”

Sara smirked at the reaction. He was single, yet much older than her, and very hot. She imagined he probably got a lot of women at bars with this poor-me routine, but she didn’t care. Something about him felt special. This was probably his one hundredth “last night of freedom,” but it was also _her_ last night in the Milky Way, a sort of freedom in itself. Nothing would be easy in Andromeda. Probably not even getting laid. There would be far too much to do under her dad’s watchful eye. That decided it.

Sara pointedly drained her drink. Her handsome stranger got the signal, leaning forward to collect her glass.

“Do you want another?”

“Not here.”

His grey-green eyes brightened along with a slow smile. “Do you mean another bar, or...”

“Only if there's one in your room.”

Sara leaned back in her chair, uncrossing and then crossing her legs, full well knowing how she looked. His gaze traveled down as she expected, and before she could say another word, he’d grinned and bolted to the bar to settle his tab.

Less than five minutes later they crossed the threshold into his room, Sara relieved at the fact it was clean and uncluttered. If it weren't for his key proving otherwise, she'd of guessed the space unoccupied. As the door clicked shut behind her, Sara’s nerves kicked in. This wasn't normal, not that she hadn't gotten laid before, just never with someone she'd barely met.

“That drink?” he asked, strolling over to a neat, gold-brushed cart near the window. The same sunset from upstairs fell over the lush white carpet, casting him in a neon glow. It was almost carnal.

_I've been so good, I deserve this reward before I go._

Sara licked her lips. She must have said yes, or nodded or muttered something to the affirmative, as he picked up a decanter and filled two low ball glasses. The swirling liquid even tantalized. Sara watched with utter fixation, his steady hands, his warm brown skin taught over corded, muscular forearms. She wanted them trapping her waist, picking her up or holding her down. Her mouth watered in anticipation.

He came back into the muted light and handed her the drink, slipping it into her palm, running his thumb across her knuckles afterwards. Sara raised it up and let a bit of warmth slide down her throat to her already tightening belly. The flames licked her insides and she was proud of not coughing.

“Good?” he grinned.

She nodded, unsure of how to move from point A, standing near the doorway, to point B, straddling his lap. Usually guys pounced -- this one was taking his time. Maybe age did that for a man. She wouldn't lie to herself, the silver fox situation was working very well for her. It wasn't surprising -- the older men in vids always did the trick, ever since she was a teenager. She'd never acted on the impulse before now though.

Taking a tentative step, Sara crept closer to her silver fox. He didn't back up, but didn't move either, fine to let her set the pace of their encounter. She had no idea what to say, but felt the need to speak bubbling up within her. Sara swirled her glass absently. “Is this, uh, stuff, pretty old?” She wrinkled her nose at how young and inexperienced she sounded. “Stuff?” She had no idea what she was drinking.

“Is that your way of trying to ask my age?” He raised his eyebrows in mock consternation.

“No!” Sara stepped back a little on her heel, but he caught her elbow before she could move too far. “I'm not, I'm just a little beyond my element here.”

He smirked. “Me too, actually. I’ve never picked up a stranger in a bar.”

“Yeay for us,” she joked, swirling one finger in the air.

His chuckle was so wholesome she wanted to crawl under the covers and snuggle with it. Both smiled slowly at one another, in realization that neither was as smooth as they had acted earlier. Though, he still had a leg up for sure.

“Can I kiss you? That's how these things usually start I'd say.”

There was no way to resist his charm. “Oh, please do,” Sara practically gushed, stepping back into his space. He ran a hand up her neck, smoothed behind her ear, and gently angled her towards him. Sara didn't mind being led, rather invited the instruction. One of her hands curled against his chest as he kissed her, parting her lips with a bit of tongue, the other dangled at her side with the drink precipitously hanging between her fingertips. His smooth lips pressed so urgently against hers that she forgot herself entirely, dropping the glass and spilling liquid courage everywhere.

“Damn it,” she muttered, feeling drops of liquor run down her shin.

She broke away to pick up the tumbler, but he practically growled. “Leave it.” He spun her up by the waist, hauling her towards the bed with one arm. She grinned in delight, falling back against the covers as he plopped her there, finishing his drink and casually tossing the thick glass near the pillows.

“One of us shouldn't waste it.” His hands ran up her open legs, chasing at the edge of her dress. One swooped down to her ankle and lifted it gently, Silver Fox dipping his head to lick the rivulet of liquor off her skin. Goosebumps covered her body as she dropped her head back, spanning her arms wide across the cool covers.

“I’m thinking you lied about your experience to make me feel better,” she teased.

“I never said I wasn't experienced.” He guided her leg back down, and crowded between her thighs. Looking up at the ceiling, Sara could feel the scratch of her hemline riding up higher and higher. Her cheeks burned. “I just don't meet beautiful women at hotel bars.”

She peeked at him, tipping her chin and watching him watch her. “This okay?” he asked.

Sara nodded, head feeling heavy and full of want. “I'd be kind of upset if you stopped.”

“I won't.”

Stars above this man's voice was like thunder in the middle of the dark, rumbling in your bones, stirring you awake. She wanted to bottle it up and take it with her to Andromeda, let it spill out on lonely nights.

His palms crept higher on her outer thighs, pushing her dress, her red panties exposed. His eyes flashed at that, revealing his approval of her lacy choice of underthings. Sara sat up on her elbows to loosen her dress, letting the clasp at her neck free. The black fabric slid down with a rush of release, exposing her matching red bra.

“Are you even real?” he muttered under his breath. Sara dug in her heels and lifted her hips enough to let him tug the dress down. She felt good, knowing she had him in as much disbelief as he her. “Christ,” he said, stripping the fabric away, and tossing it behind him. He worked on her nude heels, slipping them loose and letting them clatter uselessly to the floor. Fingertips smoothed over her ankles.

“Can I do you?” Sara smiled shyly, tapping the side of a leg with her pink painted toes, an extravagance for all the sandals she wore in Rio.

“Whatever the lady wants.”

Sara shot up, transitioning to her knees in a swift, seamless swoop. Battle training had some advantages. She unbuttoned him quickly, first the shirt, revealing a trim chest dusted with hair, then the pants. His happy trail had her practically drooling. If she was braver, she'd run her tongue along that delicious path, but as it was, keeping her hands steady was as much as she could hope for. He shrugged out of both items, kicking off his shoes. He scanned her body, once, twice. Sara did the same, appreciating the deep 'v’ that disappeared beneath his briefs, the solid curve of his pecs, the broad shoulders that were taught with tension.

“You look like you want to pounce.”

As if signaling his release, he did, pushing her back, kneeling on to the bed. She slid to the headboard, parting her thighs again. His eyes were really quite piercing, and another tendril of wanting wrenched through her as he caught her gaze and held it as his thumb traced the seam of her panties. Right up the middle. Sara gasped, not bothering to hide her desire, reaching for his chin to pull him down in another kiss. He sank his lower half onto her, still stroking, teasing. He braced himself with the other arm and she canted her hips, grinding into the sensation. A murmured “please” may have passed her desperate lips, she wasn't certain the plea made it that far. She traced the edge of his lower lip with a daring tongue, flicking playfully to taste him. Silver Fox groaned appreciatively, low in his throat. She ran her trimmed nails against his back in lazy circles, coaxing more and more. His thumb slipped past her underwear at last and she stirred in surprise.

Things progressed quickly after that, the demarcation between messing around and fucking apparently an edge of red lace. Soon all remaining clothing was abandoned, and he paused at the edge of no return, holding her knee with one hand and his cock with the other.

“Are you taking preventatives?” The question sounded so clinical dropping out of his previously sexy mouth she could have laughed.

“What are you my doctor?” she wanted to say. “I'm good,” was what came out instead. “Sincerely and truly good.” Procreation blockers were one of the first things they gave you once you signed up with the Initiative.

“Okay,” he measured. “Are you sure you don't want me to find a condom?”

“Not unless you think I should be worried. Should I be worried?”

He grinned. “Definitely not.”

Sara wiggled her hips, offering herself up, asking to be entered. Silver Fox obliged, sitting back on his heels and pulling her up into his lap, cock sliding in deep as she dug fingertips into his shoulders. The position gave her control, let her ride as she wanted. The two kissed again, lips matching in fervor, tongues tangling between heated breaths. Sara rocked and rocked, guided by those strong hands on her ass, arching her back and grinding further against him. The friction was good; sweat broke out across her lower back, behind her knees. She gasped as he kissed her breast instead, teeth grazing sensitive flesh. Her hands moved to cup his neck, to further nuzzle his head between her breasts. Sara rode on, never stopping her rhythm, the glide a sweet, sweet reward for the exertion. A blossom of pleasure opened up and she dipped her head back, eyes closed, soaking in sensation. Silver Fox pulled at her hips faster, urging her along. The sinuous angle of her body was unnatural, but the extreme bend felt good, like stretching a sore muscle, or pushing into a workout. He slid a hand up over her back, mouth tracing up her neck as fingers grazed the other side. Hot breath at the juncture of her shoulder sent a shiver over her, tipping her pleasure from possible to very real; the bloom fully exposed, stretching from where they joined to the tips of her toes and the roots of her hair. Sara panted, gasping up air, giddy with feeling. She groaned as he nibbled her neck, a frenzied little laugh of satisfaction as his lips met her ear and whispered, “Christ, you feel amazing.”

With her high wearing down, Sara got sloppy, missing the beat entirely, unable to keep her same pace. Silver Fox smiled indulgently, tipping her back to the bed. She wrapped her legs tight about his waist and pulled him close for a deep kiss as he finished.

Afterwards they laid intertwined, heartbeats slowing, breathing returning to normal. He was half on top of her, one hand still curled about her neck. He sighed deeply then laughed to himself.

“What?” Sara turned her head to look at him, ready to punch him if he was laughing about her.

“It's nothing, really. It's just, of course I met you right now, of all times.” He shook his head and swooped to kiss her cheek.

An uneasiness settled in Sara. Not because it was now her time to leave, but because somehow, in some impossible way, she knew exactly what he meant. And that was possibly more terrifying than the prospect of leaving the galaxy behind in a matter of  hours. How do you give up a connection that felt so potent, like the stars were finally aligned? Not easily.

Sara sighed too, resigned to return to her room and try and get some sleep. If she didn't leave now, she never would. “I really should go,” she said, melting as he kissed her one last time. The rightness of it shook her senses. Maybe it only felt this way because it was her last fling in the Milky Way. Maybe he was just that good.  

He brushed her cheek and kissed her forehead over eagerly, like their relationship was more significant than a one-night stand. “I'll be thinking of you out there,” he said.

 _No, it wasn't just because it was her last fling and really, he's not that smooth,_ she thought as his voice curled around her. This man was something else entirely. A mystery for her to ponder in her sleep for the next few centuries at least.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He couldn't get the woman from the bar out of his head. His mentor would have called him distracted, slapped him on the shoulder and scolded, “Harry, stop thinking about what your cock wants and focus on what they need.” The figment of his old mentor spurred him on. She would have asked him later about the woman, but not until after shift. Patients were most important, personal crises had to wait in the face of whatever the patient was dealing with.

There was something soothing about that philosophy, it was easier to let go of your own problems for a while when you knew someone else was hurting and you could fix it. Medicine was easy, emotions were the difficult part.

Today he would become a patient too, preparing for the deepest of sleeps after assisting nearly 200 people into theirs. It was a quick, painless procedure, and he'd already been at it for hours. Today was the last day for assisting the remaining passengers into their stasis pods. Most were mission personnel, who'd worked up until deadline and now that the launch sequence was ticking down, had to get strapped in like the rest of the 20,000 volunteers aboard. He'd taken a week off, knowing his team could handle it while he straightened his head out for the trip in front of him. Was he too old for this? Was Andromeda a younger man's game? Not according to Alec Ryder, who'd only finally convinced him last week that the Initiative needed a doctor like Harry.

What was he giving up? Security, safety, any guarantees, sure. But in the moment, still fresh off Vancouver less than 24 hours before, the idea of that young woman at the bar plagued him. Was this a mistake? Was it a sign he’d found her so refreshing he couldn't get the encounter out of his head?

 _Patients, old dog. Get to your next batch of patients._ Harry shook her free from mind and strode into the next row of pods. A brunette sat next to a young man on the edge of her pod, laughing conspiratorially.

“Dad would kill us,” she snickered. Harry looked closer, grabbing her chart hastily in disbelief.

“He'd be light-years away and we'd already be dead before he figured it out,” the young man laughed.

She shook her head, ponytail swaying, smile widening. She'd smiled like that once he'd kissed her the other night too. She looked young, too young now, with her hair up, teasing blue eyes fixing on him. Harry scanned the chart for a date faster than he'd ever before.

“Silver Fox?” The shock in her voice was impossible to miss.

Twenty-two, she was twenty-two. Thank fucking God.

He glanced at her name. Sara Ryder. The relief he'd gained a minute before drained out of Harry; he felt abysmally sick. A cold sweat ran over him as he put another kind of math together. This was Sara Ryder, and he'd bet his life that this was her twin next to her, and dad was...

His friend Alec.

His gut clenched, his balls tightened right up, and Harry thought he might have a coronary in front of his young woman from the bar. She could tell he knew her, a little frown settling across her brow at his obvious distress. He'd fucked his friend’s daughter. Shit, shit, shit. This was why he never did one-night stands. This was why he hated ending relationships and taking big risks and signing up for suicide missions to galaxies across the universe.

The brother was getting wise to the situation, looking from his sister to his doctor, a burgeoning smile on his lips. “You two slept--”

“Who’s ready for the deep sleep?” A booming voice interrupted the most dangerous proclamation the kid could have made in that moment. Harry's eyes practically drilled right into that kid’s soul for how he stared at him now. _Not another word,_ he conveyed. Sara grabbed her brother's knee with a bit of bite, nails digging into the skin through cloth.

“Hey, dad,” she said. She sounded nervous, uncertain like when she'd entered his hotel room realizing what to do next wasn't as easy as flirting in a crowded bar.

 _Stop thinking about it_. _Get a grip and stop thinking about her that way. Focus, Carlyle, focus._

Alec clapped him on the shoulder from behind. “Looks like you've met the good doctor here,” he said. “You're in great hands, I've convinced Harry to join our team.”

“Oh?” Sara said stiffly, looking from her dad to Harry. “That's great.”

“Yeah,” chimed in her brother, on the verge of laughter. He held his stomach. “It really is.”

Alec didn't pick up on the undertone, just kept carrying on. “I'll leave you kids to it. See you on the other side.”

“Bye, dad,” the twins said in unison.

“See you in an hour, Harry.” Alec thrust out his hand and Harry shook it, the firm grasp of a career soldier. “They're all I have left,” he reminded. Why was it anything Alec Ryder said was laced with a threatening undertone?

“They'll be just fine, Alec.” Harry dropped the shake and gave the other man a nod. “There's nothing to worry about.”

Alec grunted his assent and left them to their procedures. Sara sat on her hands while her brother burst out laughing. Harry was a pacifist by nature, “do no harm” after all, but he desperately wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off her brother’s face. Instead, Harry shuffled papers and the kid comprised himself, wiping tears away from the corner of his eyes.

“Scott--” His sister pleaded, giving him a pointed look. An unspoken agreement passed over them.

“Why don't you put me under first, doc? It'll give you guys some privacy.” Scott rolled up his sleeve. “Thanks for the laugh -- might as well go out in a good mood.”

“Fine,” Harry agreed, setting down Sara's chart and reaching for her brother's. “If you could sit in your pod, we’ll move this procedure along.”

The twins embraced, sharing a quiet conversation that Harry looked away from, readying the shot that would put Scott under. The stasis pod would really do the rest for him, but Harry needed to be sure that the patient had actually been dosed correctly in order for the stasis to work. Scott scooted into his pod and hung his right arm out for Harry to inject. The procedure was quick, and only as painless as a needle prick. Scott looked about to say something, but before he could get the words out, sleep overtook him. Harry couldn't help but smirk. He rolled down Scott's sleeve, tucked his arm back in the pod and pressed the button to lower the top half. The machine hissed as the various stasis chemicals were released, getting absorbed through his exposed skin and airways. The pod’s screen showed his stats, heartbeat lowering according to plan. Harry observed for another minute and stepped back. The process had worked perfectly.

“Is he asleep? I mean, he's under until you bring him back, right? All went fine?”

Sara watched from her perch at the edge of her pod, eyes flicking over her brother with concern and care. She still looked so young -- it was amazing the difference bright, aseptic lighting made. He would of sworn she was nearly 30 the other night. Especially with her hair down. Ponytails suddenly seemed shockingly adolescent in a way he'd never considered before.

But she'd asked him a question. She studied him cautiously, not that she was going to spook. He had the feeling she saw him as the skittish creature here.  

“Everything went well,” he said. “It's fairly routine actually.”

She nodded. He nodded.

“--Are you ready?”

“--Your name’s Harry?”

Sara laughed after they spoke over each other, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do I make you nervous? How did that happen?”

“It's your dad that makes me nervous,” he admitted. He could stop acting like a coward any minute. He really could. “You-- I just wasn't expecting you here.”

“Me either, but I wasn't close to fainting.”

“I wouldn't have fainted--”

She interrupted with a dismissive wave. “Please, I thought I'd have to catch you, which would have been fairly awkward.”

“Alright, it was a shock. I didn't know you were Alec's daughter.”

Sara scrunched up her nose. “Why does that matter?”

Harry felt he was on thin ice. He didn't want to insult either her, or what they'd done. He didn't want to take it back, didn't regret that night, but she was _Alec’s daughter_. You didn't fuck your friend’s kids, no matter if they were of age or strikingly beautiful or any number of excuses -- it was a mistake. One they did not have to keep making.

“Sara,” he said gently. “I'm just not comfortable with the situation. I'm twice your age -- your dad is a friend. I won't pretend I know him better. How do you think he'd react?”

“He'd floor you, to be sure,” Sara said, face darkening.

“How can you possibly ask why it matters then?”

Sara pushed off the pod, getting into his personal space. “Because you're treating me like I'm a child, Harry. Don't act like you're not. I'm a grown woman and have been for years. I don't need you to treat me like a girl anymore than I need him to.”

Angry was a good look on her. Hell, she was gorgeous either way, but the flare of injustice lit up her eyes. She was close to his chest, fuming. This seemed like an argument that stemmed from somewhere else and now he was getting the brunt of it. That was fine, he'd take a bit of reprimanding on the matter. Whatever kept her from saying anything to anyone. And kept her brother's mouth shut.

“I'm sorry.” He raised his hands. “We're not even remotely in the same situation as last night.”

Sara lingered in his space for a moment longer. Part of him wanted to grab her and kiss the pout off her lips. He kicked that part of him down. Deep, deep down in a box that only hard liquor could pry open.  _She's a patient now_ , he realized. _Think about the work._

That helped. Theoretically.

“If you're ready, we can get on with the procedure.”

A look of disappointment flashed brightly and sizzled away like a dud firework. “Go ahead, doctor. We'll talk about this later." 

Harry took a deep breath. Patient. Sara Ryder was just a patient.

* * *

  

She followed him onto his shuttle. Sara wasn't proud she was turning into a stalker, but Silver Fox -- Harry -- couldn't just keep ignoring her presence. With Scott in an induced coma she could reasonably blame the sudden mania on shock, but she knew deep down that her reaction would have been the same regardless of her twin's health. Scott would have just been there with her, snickering in the background. A voice of reason shouted, "You're being clingy," but Sara had perfected the art of ignoring those voices of doubt long ago. She wouldn't have been in Andromeda without it.

Now Harry angled away from her, looking out the shuttle window, eyes drawn like a magnet to the strikes of lightening rocking their supposed "golden world." Two others flocked to the opposite window, and with their attentions drawn by the lightening, Sara felt bold enough to try Harry again.

She blocked the other's view, back to them, and whispered urgently. "I'm old enough, and this is a whole new world. We shouldn't be worrying about what was acceptable back there. Everyone's dead and everything's changed by now. We can change too." 

Harry leaned his forehead against the window and sighed. "Why are you pushing this? Does having a one-night stand bother you this much?" 

Sara gasped sharply. "That's not even it. I'm surprised you aren't thinking it too! The way you kissed me, 'I'll be thinking of you up there.' What was that?"

"Women love to feel special."

"You said you didn't pick up women in bars."

Harry wheeled around, his chest visibly heaving even with the armor on, and whispered roughly in her ear. "How do you know I wasn't just lying to have sex with you?" 

She never understood "the slap" in vids. Particularly old Earther vids where the woman rails hard against the man she desperately wants to kiss. Now it was crystallizing in her mind. A good backhand would feel particularly satisfying. Harry's eyes dared her to say or do something -- her chest heaved as much as his. They leaned in towards one another, so close his chest plate clinked against her shoulder. Forget slapping him, Sara wanted to punish him with a wicked kiss, all teeth and tongue, nails scrabbling his scalp, maybe a little blood from his lip. For a moment she thought he was reading the thoughts in her mind, his eyes flickering with an intensity that flared in her groin. But then the shuttle shook violently, breaking the seal on their connection. Sara looked back at a loud ripping noise for a split second, long enough for the shuttle wall to fracture without her realizing. Harry reached for her arm, but the force of the impact against the rock was too strong. He was flung back as she toppled out. 

Falling, Sara thought she'd heard him yelling her name. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Nothing was right. First the Scourge, then the kid had to be put in a coma, they crash landed on Habitat 7, Alec Ryder died and now Harry was straddling Sara Ryder’s waist applying compressions to keep her heart from failing again. Alec's damn science experiment was killing his daughter, and in the field there was nothing to do about it. Harry was the only one who could keep her alive. Panic wasn’t an option, punching something wasn't one either. Cora was waving down a shuttle, Harry kept doing compressions. SAM was straining her body past its limit. One second she was fine, and then another heart attack. She was too young to die -- yeah she'd hate him saying that, but it was true.

The operating table was worse. Someone suggested hardwiring SAM, maybe it was the AI itself, but why the fuck they were listening to the AI was beyond him. He couldn't panic. Doctor first, doctor first. She was just a patient like any other.

They sliced her open, sticking a SAM router in her head like she was a broken robot that just needed an upgrade. This wasn't Harry's specialty. It wasn't any of their specialties to be honest. Ellen Ryder had been the revolutionary behind the SAM implants.

It got worse before it got better. Seizures, grand mal-scale seizures that wracked her already bruised body. This was exactly why AI implants were dangerous. Why Harry had flat out told Alec where he could stick his communications implant. The man's wife had died messing with implants -- now it looked like his daughter would see the same fate.

Harry was angry for her, angry over the entire idiotic mission. They were stuck in space, with limited resources, with shit habitats and the only Pathfinder for light years around was dying.

Lexi made him step back. It had been hours of work, but Sara stopped seizing. SAM was in control now, rebooting the system. Lexi forced Harry onto a stool, opposite Sara’s unconscious form.

“You need to rest,” she insisted. “It's out of our hands now. SAM has integrated so deeply it isn't possible to reverse the procedure.” Lexi thrust a cup of coffee into his grip. Harry looked at it confused, as if an alien plant had just sprouted out of his palm.

“Christ,” he muttered, wiping his face. “I'm too old for this.”

“And what does that make me?”

Lexi brought a stool up next to his and sat, letting him collect his thoughts, drink a few mouthfuls of terrible coffee. _Who packed this?_

“I can't do it, Lexi. I can't be on the Pathfinder team.” The asari folded her hands and observed with an air of objectivity. “Don't make a study of me,” he said.

“I won't, Harry. But you're asking for my advice aren't you?”

“You're help,” he insisted. “I need you to take my place.”

Lexi straightened up even more after that. “Or do you need my help getting over whatever you're concerned with? Why can't you 'do it’? What is holding you back, Harry? You're a highly competent doctor. I believe you saved Ms. Ryder’s life. I'd suggest you can in fact do more than you think.”

He looked straight down into his mug, examining the grounds at the bottom. It was terrible tasting stuff, but if it was the last coffee he'd ever have, shouldn't he cut it some slack? Bad coffee was better than no coffee...

What was he thinking? His sluggish brain was about to compare someone’s poor taste in caffeinated beverages to being around Sara. He had to cut off. No contact was a hell of a lot better than what he was feeling now in her presence. It would only get worse. She’d almost died and he felt panicked at the concept, no matter how many times he told himself he wasn't. Then desperately angry. She'd put him through the wringer and had no clue. He wanted to protect her. Not because she was too young to protect herself, he'd seen her fire her gun on Habitat 7 and had no illusions about how strong she was, but because he had feelings for her. It was insane. Completely unexpected, but there it was. He was a freaking bleeding heart romantic, apparently.

Lexi looked amused. Her brows raised, hands still folded neatly.

“I can't stay on the team because I can't be her doctor. We've slept together.”

“Harry!” That had surprised her. Her eyes widened in shock. “When did you even find the time?”

“It was before we left the Milky Way -- I didn't ask her name.”

Lexi smiled, relaxed on her stool and touched Harry's hand gently. “You like her.”

He didn't deny it, wouldn't lie to Lexi. “And like I said, I can't be her doctor.”

She nodded in agreement. “Will you pursue a romantic relationship?”

“I -- ah, she's--”

“Too young?” Lexi frowned, pursing her blue lips in thought. “What if you and I had a sexual exchange? Would that make _you_ too young?”

This was getting bizarrely off balance. Harry knew he'd stepped in something again. He shouldn't have mentioned it. But Lexi was his last surviving friend and he did need to talk about it.

“That's different.”

“Actually, it’s not...”

Lexi got that lecture daze in her eyes. She was about to launch into an hour-long dissertation on the reproductive workings and maturation in human females. Harry just leaned back, letting the words wash over him as he watched Sara Ryder steadily breathe.

* * *

 

Sara had never felt so alone surrounded by so many other people. It was like when her mom died, standing at the funeral surrounded by strangers, pioneers in biotic implants standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Alliance personnel who only came out of respect for Ellen and not her dad. At least she'd had Scott then; the separation between them now felt enormous. He should have been the Pathfinder, not her. Sara wasn't even adept at finding her way out of a crowded department store, let alone leading all of humanity in a quest to find their new home. 

She kicked the base of a stool, the bartender looking slightly peeved as she did it. Sara couldn't care less. She needed a break from all the vaults and the running from toxic mist. In a matter of weeks she'd realized the drinks at The Vortex were as good as any other bar; perfect for celebrating what was officially her loneliest birthday. 

She didn't have the heart to go see Scott, namely because Harry would be there. The doctor had severed his Pathfinder team ties as soon as she came out of her integration with SAM, along with half the people her father had recruited that survived Habitat 7. Sara's ship was decidedly un-human now, which was odd at first for a human Pathfinder, although they chased an even bigger threat than bad weather with the Archon in play.

She drained the last of her pink, fruity drink. Dutch called it a Heleus Cluster Fuck. Sara scooted the glass to the edge of the bar by the rim, taping it when Dutch caught her eye.

"Fill up another," she said. "Charge it to Tann this time?"

Dutch shook his head, then began assembling the drink. "Shouldn't you be out finding something rather than the bottom of a bottle?" His hands flew fast, mixing vodka, splashes of a dozen juices and and a glittery liquor Sara called "glam sauce." The resulting concoction sparkled and swirled like a galaxy in a glass. It was a bright spot in the last few weeks were worse had gone to worst.

"I don't tell you how to do your job." She palmed the drink eagerly.

"I'm cutting you off after that, Pathfinder." 

Sara grunted while sipping, rolling her eyes at Dutch. The blond man just picked up a rag and started wiping down the counter.

True to his word, minutes later she was out the door and walking through the little hydroponics garden, brushing the plants gently with her palm as she walked to the center. The pond there usually soothed Sara, not that she could often make it to the Nexus with all the new planets they were making more habitable. A bench nestled beneath the large tree called her name, and she collapsed on it to take a few deep breaths. She was alone, another year older, but hardly wiser. The entire trip was fraught with failure, from even  _before_ she went in stasis. Everything thereafter fell like well placed dominoes, such a perfect recipe for chaos that Sara almost believed in an eternal creator. One that very much enjoyed messing with her life.

A light mist fell on her head, punctuating the thought. She scurried out of the garden, not wanting to get drenched. It was back to the Tempest, where she'd catch a nap on the way to Voeld to finally get the Moshae. She trudged her way there, not feeling nearly as inspired as her team would need to see. Sara pulled up a fake smile, one she'd learned to use on her dad when he'd refused to back down from a point. It was better to let him think he'd won then let him know he'd gotten to her. Fake smiles were a Ryder Family Trait. At least, between the kids and their dad. 

Everyone said their hellos as Sara passed to her quarters. Liam was particularly chatty, and Sara had to beg off -- showing her slightly damp hair and clothes as an excuse.

''I'll catch up in a bit, I promise," she said. "Just need to shower." 

"Sara, a package was left for you while you were at The Votex," SAM said, broadcasting so both she and Liam could hear it. Sara smiled apologetically at Liam and privately thanked SAM for his perfect timing.  

Sara ran to her room and spotted the package on her bed. Who had brought it in? The wrapping was nondescript, plain brown like a paper bag -- no note, no ribbons or bows. 

“SAM, what the hell is this?”  
  
The AI scanned. Although weeks had passed since she almost died on Habitat 7, she was still... adjusting. Every little surprise had her jumpy. Maybe the Archon had sent a bomb for her birthday.  
  
“My scans confirm it’s an alkaloid. Nitrogen-based in nature, wrapped in an organic polymer.”  
  
She considered that for a moment, tossing it between her hands. “It's chocolate, isn't it?”  
  
“Yes,” SAM said. “My description was intentionally specific as to not reveal the surprise. As I understand it, gifts are meant to be unwrapped first.”  
  
Sara huffed. “You going to read the card next?”  
  
“That was not my intent, Sara. Though I certainly can if you feel the need to remain overly objective about this package.”  
  
She laughed, the first time that day. She'd been teaching SAM to be snarky. Someone had to fill in for Scott while he was recovering. Sara sat on the edge of her bed gingerly, placing the gift into her lap. It wasn't large, just a small box of chocolates then. Who'd sent them? Who actually knew her birthday any more? Maybe it was Cora -- perhaps her dad had shared their birthday at one point. She peeled back the plain paper wrapper, careful not to tear it. The who was better than the what -- not that chocolate could ever be looked down on. Someone taking the time to leave her a gift in the middle of all this was touching. If only Scott was here to share in the spoils.  
  
The package was indeed a box of chocolates. Sara smiled at the store-bought treats, clearly sold at the Nexus, a little blue sticker that said, “Perfect gift for a human!” She snickered, picking up the card.

> Sara --
> 
> Happy birthday. I know it's not much, but the idea of your birthday passing without anyone acknowledging didn't sit right with me, or Scott. We talked again through SAM while you were off on Havarl. He misses you and suggests you save him the nougat ones. 
> 
> \--Harry 

  
She threw the package on the bed, grumbled, and crumpled up the paper wrapper. The card fell to the floor as she stood, and before thinking better of it, she stomped on it like a child. Harry Carlyle! She never would have thought he'd send her a gift on her birthday. Harry made it perfectly clear what he thought of her. He never had anything to say about what happened between them, talked only about Scott's condition, kept everything strictly medical. Lexi kept trying to pretend Harry was feeling too old for the post on the Tempest, but all the “arthritis” bullshit was just a touch too much. His joints had been perfectly fine when they'd had sex.  
  
Sara flopped back on her bed. Harry. She wasn't sure what she wanted more, to smack him or to make him want her. It's not like they saw each other often, but when they did, it hurt. The sting of rejection was too fresh on top of everything else. Yea, it hadn't been an ideal situation when her dad was right there, but then he'd died... Sara threw her hands over her eyes. Was she really dragging her dad’s selfless sacrifice into this?  
  
She needed Scott. She was becoming friends with her crew, but he would know what to say to make her feel better without any explanation. Sara had about enough drama to make her scream. She didn't though -- just kept moving, kept her head straight and her shoulders back like her dad taught her.  
  
She scrabbled up and reached over the edge of her bed, grabbing the note. She tore it up, then into even tinier pieces. Dammit, stupid Harry and his weak apology chocolates. He'd made his point loud and clear. Wasn't she already miserable enough?


	4. Chapter 4

After the "chocolate incident," Sara avoided seeing her brother for a matter of weeks. She felt like the worst sister, but the amount of work that fell on her plate as Pathfinder eased the guilt to a manageable level. Now that the Moshae was freed, Sara suddenly had a foreseeable path. Apparently a lead to the Archon could be found on Kadara. She just needed the right person to help her look. The irony of that fact wasn't lost on her. 

A day before her departure for Andromeda's version of the wild west, a message pinged on Sara's omni-tool.

\--"I'd like to speak with you, if you're free."--

She eyes the message speculatively, not sure if what she was reading could possibly be right. What did Harry want now? For a man who needed space, he was awfully prone to keeping tabs on her life. A part of her wanted to move on, delete the message and forget Harry Carlyle ever existed. Another message pinged before she could commit. 

\--"This isn't about us. If that helps."--

It did help. Sara left the Tempest immediately, concerned something was wrong with Scott. 

She arrived at the Hyperion med bay a few minutes later, a little more breathless than usual. Harry was nowhere on the floor. The place was getting emptier every time she stopped by; people were just not being taken out of stasis with the whole, we-have-no-planet situation. She felt the pronounced loss of that every time she set foot beyond those doors. The beds should have been filled with workers by this point, people who could assemble the ready-made homes necessary for the families that should have soon awakened thereafter. Now everyone was still asleep, and Harry was focused mostly on Scott. It should have been a relief to know Scott was so well cared for, but Sara only wished he was one of many well-cared-for patients. 

She crept through the eerily silent space into the back office where Harry managed his post as head of the med bay. He sat slumped over a data pad behind his tidy desk, flipping through a patient's chart with a disconcerting grimace across his face. Sara wanted to smooth it away, impossible at this point in their strained relationship, but still an instinct she couldn't easily forget. 

"Harry?" His eyes flicked up, the grey-green source of coolness now simmering with worry. His shoulders were as tense as those striking eyes. "What's happening?"

He cleared his throat. “Before we left, my medtech Charlie helped his aunt sign on to the initiative program. She has TH-314. Deadly, highly contagious in the latter stages and jumps across species. It was dormant but flared up after Charlie woke her. He just assumed it was stasis sickness. There’s no cure, no vaccine. Its deadly in its final stage and she’s off-grid. She’s a problem.

“According to the test results from Charlie, she’s still in stage one of the disease. Stage one symptoms are similar to stasis sickness, which is what fooled Charlie. Stage two is marked by extreme bouts of paranoia. It becomes virulently contagious at stage three. Airborne, the works. If she progresses to stage three... Sara, it’ll be bad. It’s a rare disease, but the kind that starts pandemics.”

Sara understood the simmering tension now. "What can I do?"

Harry sighed. “Every instinct I have both medically and human is screaming at me to help her. But making sure TH-314 doesn't spread is the top priority, no matter what. This one isn’t going to be easy," Harry continued. “Be quick but discreet -- we can’t panic the entire station over this."

SAM spoke up. “Dr. Carlyle has granted me access to Ruth Bekker’s profile. The file includes her physical description.” 

Harry sat back in his swivel chair. Sara sensed it had been hard for him to call her now, but of course the situation required a specialized team with the freedom to go virtually anywhere on Andromeda. As always, a palpable energy settled between them, Harry avoiding eye contact and Sara leaning in to his space. She felt she'd always be chasing after this man. Even when she told herself that enough was enough. 

 

It turned out to be a lucky break; Ruth Bekker managed to go fairly far with her debilitating disease, but crashed on the exact planet Sara needed to visit to find her angaran traitor. The resulting shoot-out when she tracked the crazy aunt to a far-flung building in the middle of nowhere served as an added bonus. Sara was in the mood to use her Alliance training. With her trusty Black Widow sniper, the Roekkar fell like tin soldiers before her, and their ambitious leader holding Ruth hostage? Sara risked the woman's life with a trick shot, but it all squared away rather nicely in the end. There was no way she was killing Harry's patient or letting the Roekkar go. Cora raised a brow but said nothing, while Vetra slapped Sara's shoulder. 

"Looks like you finally got the rust out," she said, mandibles flaring in approval. 

"Yea," Sara said. "I think I needed that." She pointed to Ruth. "And you, into the stasis pod you go."

Ruth side-eyed the pod. "But my nephew Charlie -- finding a cure may take centuries. He'll be dead by then..."

"He can always go in a pod too."

Somehow that line of reasoning worked for Ruth. The reed-thin woman looked resigned to her fate, as anyone with a debilitating disease would be by this point. She crawled into the pod voluntarily, while Sara sealed it shut. Air filled the pod, keeping Ruth alive, but still awake. Sara felt for the her of course; her mom's disease had been just as debilitating, though not contagious. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if her mom had been put in stasis only to discover upon being woken up that there still wasn't a cure. Sara thought it better she was really gone, and at peace. It was a kinder fate than what Ruth Bekker had just been through. 

Sara called over the comms. "Suvi, there's a stasis pod here with one contagious Ruth Bekker inside. Can you send Lexi down and make sure she goes under okay? She's the only one who knows the best way to decontaminate everything so Ruth can go back to Harry Carlyle."

"Is she okay?" Suvi asked. 

Sara looked over to the pod, not able to separate the idea of her mom from this poor woman now that the seed had been planted. "She's still alive, but I don't know that she'll ever be okay again. I hope they find a cure."

"Me too," Suvi chimed in. 

Sara was more than ready to find her traitor and get the whole business of debilitating illnesses out of her head.  

 

+++

 

Reyes Vidal was an excellent distraction. Somehow Sara found her traitor, Vehn Terev, early on with the help of her new shady contact, but despite knowing she needed to  _leave Kadara,_ nothing sounded less appealing. The place had its own kind of seedy charm, reminding her of the time she'd been to Omega on a mission very early in her Alliance days. The two locations looked nothing alike, but renegade kingdoms ruled by ferocious women were too far and few in between. Sloane Kelly was no peach, and practically spat at Sara when she asked for some help. Now she was invited the woman's party, albeit as Reyes' guest. 

Reyes was smooth, but mostly in a way that made Sara cringe in delight. He treated her like a person though, and not a glorified position. Instead of handling her like a precious Pathfinder, Reyes let Sara be the kind of person she used to be: cautious, but occasionally reckless. A streak of free-spiritedness that ran fully fledged in Scott and had come from their mom spun out of Sara in select moments. Such as planning a last ditch vacation to Earth or sleeping with a man she'd just met. 

 _I never said I made good decisions under pressure,_ Sara thought. The truth was her dad's personality lived in her: be straight with people, find a way to survive despite all odds, never turn down an opportunity for greatness. Even though Sara was mentally drained and physically exhausted, her dad knew she'd never quit. Maybe it was why he made her Pathfinder in the first place. All of that pressure had to go somewhere though. On her birthday it had been a pink, fruity foul-named drink. Today it was a party with a shady thief. 

The plan was to meet Reyes outside of Sloane's self-made throne room. The idea of the room still made Sara scoff. Sloane was the queen of Kadara alright. Sara just wasn't sure she was up to solve all its problems. Relieved she didn't have to act as a political figure in this particular mess, Sara showed up to the party slightly late, approaching the guard at the door with confidence. Someone had once told her the key to getting in when you weren't on the list was confidence. Not for this guard, apparently. 

He stopped her with a raised hand, data pad in the other. His cloudy white eye blinked less, and a series of scars ran across the socket. She bet it happened on Kadara. "Hold up, this is a private event."

Sara shrugged. "I'm with someone -- meeting him here, actually."

"She's with me. Reyes Vidal."

Sara turned back at the voice. Reyes strode up to the guard cockily, arms outstretched in his customary, "who me?" look. She had to give it to the man, he knew how to make an entrance. The guard found him on the list and flicked a finger across the pad aggressively. His one eye tracked Reyes as he slipped into the party. "Go on," he growled at Sara. 

She jogged to catch up with Reyes. No sooner than they arrived had someone singled Reyes out; an angaran female named Keema who'd been able to get Reyes to the event in the first place. Sara was starting to doubt Reyes' motives in attending this party. Not that she knew what they were in the first place, but clearly he wasn't a regularly welcomed guest in Sloane's circle. 

"I was hoping he would bring you, Sara. You're all he's talks about lately."

Sara's eyes widened to the size of tennis balls, and she looked sideways to Reyes. "Is that so?" That was certainly... unexpected news. Reyes had no outward reaction, just excused himself on other business, leaving Sara to talk to Keema. 

"I have been spending a lot of time on Kadara lately," Sara admitted. Her heart raced a little bit as she tried to track where Reyes ran off to. "It only makes sense that he'd be talking about what we've been doing."

Keema smiled indulgently, like Sara was a bit of a soft fool. "It's not about what you've been doing, just little comments about you."

"Huh," Sara said lamely. Was Reyes... No. The man was too much of a playboy to really be interested in her. 

Eventually Keema latched on to another guest, sending Sara searching for Reyes. She walked around the party like a lost child, certain someone was going to find Sloane and rat out that the Pathfinder was snooping on her territory. That sent Sara out of the main room and into the halls, searching in empty corners and hoping Reyes hadn't just left her there. She'd faced enough rejection already from one man -- no need for another. 

Finally she found him crouched in a storage room, pilfering through one of Sloane's containers. 

"Damn it, why can't the serial numbers be in the same spot?"

He didn't even notice her. "'Take the night off. Come for a quick drink.' Why can't anything be that simple?" Sara sighed as Reyes looked a bit panicked for once. He backed away from the crate as she approached.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Oh? So you didn't just use me as a giant distraction for snooping through Sloane's stuff? She'd be pretty preoccupied if she spotted me in the party by myself."

"Okay, yes. But it's for both our benefit." Reyes jerked his head to look out to the hall. He was acting like an over-eager Labrador, ears perked to potential intruders. She hated to admit it, but he was nearly as cute as one too. "Quick, we need a distraction, there's someone coming."

He did look sincerely panicked. Sara let instinct and the streak of recklessness flow through her. She took Reyes by surprise and kissed him, a bit sloppily to be sure, but thoroughly, as the Outcast member strode into the room, demanding to know what they were up to. Sara barely heard any of it, barely realized what Reyes was doing after the woman had left. Suddenly he thrust a bottle of whiskey in her face and bee-lined out of the party, pulling Sara by the hand. 

The relatively cool air on the roof helped her focus. She'd just kissed a man, a relative stranger by all accounts even though they had been spending many days and nights together in Kadara. What in the world was she thinking? Bringing her back to the present, Reyes asked something about what Andromeda had been like for her so far. Sara tried to put it in as mild as terms as possible. 

"It's been a challenge, but there's no going back." She shrugged, and Reyes nodded in agreement. "Why are you here? Why'd you come to Andromeda?"

He took another swig from the bottle, steeling himself. "To be someone."

Sara startled at the admission. His entire posture said this was an honest response, rare for a man like Reyes. She turned to look at him better. A line of sexual tension ran taught between them. Reyes could certainly be an excellent rebound, if she was reading the signals right. He had kissed her back -- that seemed a good a sign as any. 

She played it safe instead. _Enough recklessness for one day,_ she thought. 

"That's, wow, I wasn't expecting that from you."

Reyes visibly shut off for a moment, not expecting her to rebuff him with skepticism, but Sara just couldn't go there. Maybe it would be fun, maybe Reyes was exactly the kind of person she should have been chasing around the galaxy, but how could she with Harry there? Ever present, Harry hung over her head, in the back of her mind. It had been over seven weeks since he'd quit her team and told her a relationship was not going to happen and Sara still couldn't set aside how she felt for him. The connection they'd had -- it was real. Real enough to draw two complete strangers together before their new lives began, together. Fate was a flimsy concept at best, but it also seemed tragically unfair how unresolved it all felt. Even if Harry thought it was over, she wasn't over it. She doubted she'd ever really be over it. 

"Earlier," she said, taking back the bottle. "That was just a spur-of-the-moment reaction. You understand, right?" She sipped nervously waiting for a response. At least the kiss had clarified one thing: Sara was hopelessly lost for Harry, even when she was annoyed with him. 

If Reyes had been disappointed, he didn't show it now. He turned on his mega-watt charm, enough to light up the top of the building. "You keep telling yourself that, Sara," he said with bravado. "You know where to find me when whoever it is on your mind wears off."

She shook her head and drank some more. "I admit nothing." Passing back the bottle she shoved his shoulder with her own. "But I also need to get the hell out of Kadara Port and start working on saving some lives."

 

Alone in her quarters, after saying goodnight to Reyes, Sara flung open her lowest desk drawer. She tossed things out of the drawer in the dark. Nestled beneath some artifacts from Peebee and a few neat rocks for Suvi she'd long forgot about, Sara found what she was looking for. She sat back in her swivel chair, shoulders relaxing at the sight, and opened up her small box of precious Milky Way chocolates. She'd only have one, but she was certain it would be enough. At least for a little while longer. 


	5. Chapter 5

“'Come to Andromeda,' he’d said. 'It’ll be an adventure,' he'd said." Harry sighed and threw his cards down. The kid had won this round anyway. “Your dad ever sell snake oil?”

Scott laughed, shaking his head at Harry. “Admit it, the Milky Way was getting stale and you know it.”  He collected up the cards on his bed and shuffled them against his leg.

“For you, maybe. I was entirely --”

“--too old,” Scott finished. “Quit with that, man. You're barely old enough to be a good doctor.”

Harry felt for his heart. “Ouch, Scott. That hurts.”

“Yeah, yeah. You told Sara I was awake right?”

Harry grimaced. “I'd passed it along to Lexi that your sister should make it over to the Nexus.”

The kid rolled his eyes and flicked card after card at Harry. Twenty-something guys were just intolerable. Harry grabbed the deck and slapped it on the bedside table. Scott raised an eyebrow as if questioning who was being dramatic.

“I don't care if you sleep with her you know. Go for it. She'd kick your ass if you strayed out of line, way more like dad than me in that way.”

Not this again. Months hadn’t passed for Scott like it had for Harry, or Sara. As far as he was concerned, Harry had put him under a few days ago. Long-term stasis had that effect on people. He knew his dad was gone, he knew Sara was Pathfinder, but nothing had time to sink in. He was still laughing over Harry's shocked face as he'd initially put it all together. Harry envied that. He'd been agonizing over Sara's role every day since she'd been named Pathfinder. Sending her chocolates was a hasty decision after feeling so guilty from Scott that he caved in his avowed avoidance of her. Then when Ruth Bekker went missing -- there was no one Harry could trust otherwise. Sara was simply the best at committing, at being persistent and figuring out problems. He could feel her trying to fix what went wrong between them every time they interacted. He knew she wanted a relationship, or a chance at one, but how could he? Sara did not need a guy like him; she needed a younger man with a hell of a lot more enthusiasm for danger. He'd probably suffer a heart attack just trying to keep up with her. 

“Scott!” Sara’s choked voice echoed in the med bay. Harry spun out of her line of sight. She was here to speak to her brother for the first time and he didn't need to make it awkward.

“You shit," she said. "You missed so much! I missed you so much!”

She ran to Scott's bed, gathering him in a large hug. Harry wheeled back on his stool, giving them plenty of space. He really needed to check on other patients anyway.

For the next hour Harry tried not to look over at the siblings. He wanted to see Sara happy again. See her smile as broadly as she had when they first met. He knew he was making her miserable every time she visited Scott; he just couldn't figure a way around it. Sara couldn't afford a distraction like him, not when so much rested on her shoulders. She was strong and brave, and deserved better than he could offer. But Lexi gossiped like any other doctor. Sara had turned down a few offers, turned down the persistent advances of a shady Kadaran thief a few weeks ago too. The information pleased him far more than it should have.

Sara sought him out before leaving. His stomach plummeted as she crossed the room to confront him.

“I never said thank you,” she offered. “For saving me on Habitat 7, for keeping Scott safe. My mother would have been upset with me for holding out on that for so long.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, data pad fumbled between his hands. “You don't have to thank me for any of that. It's my job.”

She frowned. “I know it's your job, I know you'd rather have nothing to do with me, but can't you just accept a thank you?”

He blinked dumbly. Did she? Had she just?

Sara groaned and put a hand over her mouth. “That was so rude. Completely out of line.”

“Well not completely,” he said with a laugh. The corner of her mouth threatened to raise;  he could tell she still enjoyed the sound of his voice. “I'm sorry I've been... distant towards you.”

She shrugged. "The birthday chocolates? I finally opened them. That was a nice gesture, even if it was Scott's idea."

"You deserve to be recognized," he said. "Even if I'm too old to be useful on the Tempest, you deserve my respect. I know what you're doing for us." 

Harry coughed to hide his discomfort, swiping at his data pad fruitlessly. “I'll be sure to work on my bedside manner,” he joked. "I don't want to be a source of stress in your life, Sara." 

A little shocked at the turn of their conversation, Sara blinked at him, hands stuck in mid-air. Her mouth was open, and realizing herself, she snapped it shut. Yet as she walked away after giving him an affirmative nod, a tiny smile crept across her face.

* * *

 

Elizabeth Rilley. What a lie. SAM showed them the final unlocked memory after she'd thanked Harry for his help, then berated him. Head full of positive thoughts at Harry's commitment to be less distant, SAM lead them to a stasis pod that had been purposely mislabeled. All the goodwill she and Harry had just built in that short exchange washed away leaving much darker thoughts. Her dad was an awful, terrible human being. Who froze their wife against her wishes? Sara knew her mom had been tired. Knew she was done with the mad scientific plans, the controlling, miracle AI. She'd played with fire in the form of Element Zero and she'd been badly burned. Ellen Ryder had the grace to go out peacefully, letting her children bury their grief before upending their entire lives. It was the most loving thing her mother had done for them. At least, Sara saw it that way.

“I don't know how you can be upset,” Scott said. He wrapped his knuckles against the top of the pod where the fake name blinked across a data screen. “Having hope for mom is better than mom being gone, isn't it?”

Sara slid to the floor, resting her arms on her bent knees and trying to pull together some semblance of an argument. All she could think of was Ruth Bekker. “She had made her peace. She thought she was dying.” She looked at her brother. Her twin. Despite being entirely different, they usually agreed on so much. How could they not see the same on this? “She'd said goodbye to us. This just seems...” She searched for the right word, tip of her tongue on a molar. “Selfish. Dad was being selfish.”

“Like when he saved you, too?”

Sara threw her hands up. “I didn't ask him to do that!”

“And mom didn't either, but making big, dramatic decisions was the only way he knew how to care. I'm not pissed at him for this, Sara. If there's a chance mom can come back to us we should be happy for it.”

“And what if there's no cure for 100 years and we're long dead by the time they can help her. What then? I don't think she's going to want to wake up alone, confused, in a new galaxy without her entire family! Are we supposed to go into stasis ourselves until they find a cure?” A slick, ice cold panic ran down her spine. Ruth's nephew Charlie had volunteered to go back in stasis for his aunt. Sara knew she couldn't do the same.

Scott ran his hands through his hair, then slapped his palms behind him on a random pod. “Why do you have to assume the worst?”

“Why are you so naive?!”

He shook his head. “You know what, Ser, this has been a hard time for you, I get it. I've been asleep while you've been doing all the hard work. But can't you be a tad more optimistic? Your new downer routine sucks. I feel like I don't even recognize you right now. Mom's still alive. Let that sink in a little longer.”

He strode off, leaving her in a puddle at her mother's feet. A tear trickled down her cheek. They hardly ever fought. The last time had been about Andromeda; Sara thought coming here was a bad idea, Scott was ready to make a change. So far it seemed she’d been the right one, but biting her tongue day after day was giving her a bitter taste in her mouth.

Scott’s assessment of her attitude itched like a bad suit; Sara felt uncomfortable in her skin, as if the mantle of Pathfinder still didn’t fit despite trying so hard to make it work. When had she become quite so bitter, so doubtful? Assuming the worst only meant you were prepared. Her dad always said “a good soldier carries with them a healthy amount of doubt.” Blind obedience was far more dangerous than being a bit pessimistic. Wasn’t it?

Alec had been overly optimistic about Andromeda though. At the time, Sara thought it was an odd effect of grief. Now that they’d found her mom, a whole lot of pieces were stitching together.

Sara touched the bottom of the pod, resting her head against the cool metal. “It’s not that I don’t want you back,” she whispered to her mom. “I do, more than anything. But it feels selfish. We let each other go -- this shred of hope will kill me if it fails. I’ve held on so far, but this will break me.”

Sara sat on the floor, sitting still for so long the sensored lights turned off. She sat alone some more, sniffling under the strain of the last couple months. That flash of inspiration before she’d left -- standing over the Grand Canyon, feeling that with time she could win anything -- that was laughably gone. Her stand-off with the Archon? It didn't feel like a possible win was in motion. They were all irrevocably screwed and the Archon would convert all of the Initiative before her eyes.

The lights flicked on again; Sara shut her eyes to the brightness. Raising a hand and pivoting to from the pod, she squinted to find Harry coming to sit beside her. Her stomach twisted.

“You okay?”

Oh, the multitude of answers for that question. Sara could fake enthusiasm, which Scott would have liked, or be tense and uncommunicative, which was a natural standby, or she could tell it honestly. Harry served as an interesting confidant -- he had known her for at least a tiny bit before becoming Pathfinder. With crushing sadness she realized Scott was the only other person where that applied and even he didn’t recognize who she was now.

“No.” Bitter truth won out. “I don't think so."

“Scott came back in huff. He's harder to calm down than you.”

Their shoulders touched as he sat too close and Sara became very conscious of that particular part of her body. She no longer itched, but tingled.

“Ha,” she said. “Funny.”

“Want to get off the floor?”

She sighed, cradling her head. “Not if it means I have to go back out there.”

“Then, let's go hide for a while.”

Harry stood first, offering an arm. She grasped his white coat to help spring off the floor and willed him to lead the way. Sara followed through the med bay office, avoiding Scott altogether, and down to the Nexus tram. Inside they shifted from the balls of their feet to their toes, pretending to find the announcer’s information interesting, or worth listening to. Harry took off his white coat and rolled up his sleeves, reminding her of their first encounter and her fixation with his arms. Today his button-up was blue.

Sara had zero desire to return to the Tempest. She needed a break, just a few hours to unwind before she spun herself back up to crazy in order to face their next challenges. Lexi had taken a pause at one point too, drinking herself sloppy at the bar she approached now.

“Are we going to The Vortex?”

“You really like bars don't you?” Harry waved her forward.

The only place left to go in this section of the Nexus was the apartment block. They passed Peebee’s old place and the apartment where Jienn Garcon met her timely end. Harry jumped into a wide open elevator, letting a Turian pass first. He held one of the metal doors and waited for Sara to join. With a certain amount of trepidation, she stepped inside.

It turned out Harry lived on the second floor, five doors down from the elevator shaft. Sara stood at his side, readying to enter a room of his for the second time. Scott’s words from earlier echoed in her head. Her attitude was dismal, she was a downer, and assumed the worst in people. Staring at Harry’s profile, she realized she’d not been entirely fair to him. He’d backed away first, but could you blame the man? She wasn’t supposed to factor into his life at all and now his future depended on his young, inexperienced one night stand. Taking his view for a moment, Sara could see how upending this must have been for him too. 

Harry ushered her inside with a swooping gesture. His apartment was immaculate, albeit small. The living room fit a handsome pair of Eames chairs, the mahogany leather exactly what she would have picked for him. The space ran into the tiny kitchenette outfitted with a fancy espresso machine and shiny silver kitchen tools that resembled medical instruments. It looked like a meticulous doctor’s place and Sara kept her hands to herself, lest she leave a mark.

“I could use a drink. You?” Harry disappeared behind a half wall and returned with the proper barware: two tumblers and a decanter full of amber liquid.

Standing in his living room, Sara stretched out an arm, letting him fill two finger’s worth of something in the glass he gave her. He poured his own, setting the decanter on a side table with a small shelf outfitting a few print copies of medical textbooks. Sara bent down to examine them, the only title she recognized was _Gray’s Anatomy._ She ran a finger over the edge of the spine, feeling the letterpress map beneath her fingertip.

“Do you read these?”

Harry laughed. “Not since med school. I’m more of a mystery man myself. Those are decorative -- pretty much what you’d expect from any boring, middle-aged doctor.”

She sat back on her heels. "I don't think you're boring, Harry.” He was far, far from boring. Every little move he made, sound he made, she was entirely interested by. 

He came around to sit in one of the two chairs. “You’ve been seriously misled then.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sara coiled up on herself when feeling defeated. Her legs were tucked into the seat of his chair, her arms drawn to her chest, cradling the glass of scotch whisky like a preserver. He’d found her in a heap in the cryo bay and it didn’t take a medical license to realize something was wrong. What he said before was true, she did deserve his respect. Kindness was easy enough to dispense so he brought her back to his place for a peace offering.

“Is this the same as that night?” She gestured to her nearly empty tumbler.

That night. Were they referring to it now? Harry fought the urge to fidget around that question. In truth, he’d bought the very same bottle they’d shared in his room, addicted to the taste after he’d licked it off her leg, her tongue.

“You have good taste buds,” he said. “Scottish whisky -- a 30 year.”

“ _You_ have expensive taste, Doctor Carlyle.”

He shrugged. “Not so discerning. You drink a lot of alcohol in the medical field. So many dinners, forced networking, conferences, the like.”

Sara unraveled a little, dropping one leg and sitting on the other. It marked their age difference, though she wouldn’t realize it. His back would ache far too much sitting like that, not to mention the havoc on his knees.

“That’s where you met Lexi, at a conference right?”

The mention made him smile, thinking about Lexi in the crowd at the conference, her serious note taking and asking the speakers endless questions. “Yes, we met on the citadel.” Harry chuckled. “I thought a roomful of doctors were going to knock her out of her chair if she kept us from the social hour any longer.”

“I like her studiousness,” Sara defended.

“So do I, but like I said, our kind are used to drinking at these types of events.”

Sara finished her drink, fingering the edge, looking around his apartment. He felt under serious scrutiny, wondering what she thought of him. If the impression was improving. There wasn’t much lower to go after how frozen he'd acted in her presence before. He said he would work on his bedside manner and this was a start. Sara needed connection, needed a friend. He could do that for her. 

“I like Lexi,” she stated, examining the crystal tumbler in her hand. “Do you regret staying on the ark though?”

There were many answers to that loaded question. Did he feel like he made the right decision? At the time, yes. Did he wish it had gone smoother? Absolutely. Were there aspects of that whole situation he could have handled much better? Without a doubt. Was Sara ready to hear any of that?

“Watching you guys running around on Habitat 7, dodging lightning and the kett, its a young man’s game. Pains me to admit it, but it’s passed me by. So no.”

“Okay, because if it was because of how I acted -- I wasn’t fair to you at first, Harry. I shouldn't have kept pushing when you were uncomfortable.”

Her large, blue eyes were pleading him to not skip over this, to address their mutual avoidance head-on. The vulnerability radiating off her felt unfair and he recognized the advantage he held in their acquaintance. Harry was older, more experienced, more settled in life. He had a career he’d chosen, he made a choice about staying on the ark, he chose to end their connection before it had a chance to spark. Sara was drifting hard -- so much out of her control it was almost unbelievable. She deserved to control this.

“I’m pouring you another one first.” Harry approached, filling far more than before. Sara thanked him, sipping the neat drink. He took another -- may as well be loose enough to tell the truth.

“Can I be honest with you?”

Sara nodded. “Please.”

“I reacted poorly to your near death. I’ve never felt to so angry at someone before -- angry at a dead man. Who convinces their kids to upend their lives? And to give you Pathfinder duties when Cora trained for years as his second? Christ, he may as well have written the manual and burned it in front of your face, Sara.”

“So it’s about my dad again?”

“No,” he insisted. He drank faster than 30-year scotch should be consumed. Shuffling the glass between fingertips, he took a second to measure his thoughts.

“I couldn’t be your doctor. I was -- _I am_ \-- far too invested in you. Lexi’s a compartmentalist, she can examine you without a sliver of personal relationship clouding her judgement. I used to be able to do that, but you have an effect on me. I can’t explain it. Something about you is... refreshing.”

Her brow raised delicately, discerningly. Sara shifted to sitting on the other leg, pulled her sleeves down her arms, leaned forward in his chair.

“Your getting somewhere,” she said. “Go on.”

Harry sipped again, letting the buzz carry his momentum even further forward. “I loved being with you that night you know. I didn’t realize how young you were,” he held up a hand as she began to protest, “but age had less to do with this than you think. Lexi schooled me on that, challenging my conceptions as she always does. Sara, I came here to get away from failed relationships that were hanging over me, not start a daring new romance. You were supposed to disappear, a figment, a tribute to my last night on Earth. I thought I’d carry the thought of your beautiful face with me into old age, not complicate your entire life.”

“That’s -- thank you for telling me the truth.”

“I owe you that much, Sara.”

It wasn't the entire truth. Yes, he found her refreshing, but also sexy as hell and fierce as could be. Sara deserved someone who could show up and keep up, and he doubted very much that was something he could ever do for her. She cracked a tiny smile, one that ignited a little fire in his chest. Her smiles were gorgeous, his favorite thing about Sara besides her tireless nature and honesty. Over the course of his confession she’d downed her glass, and now she held it out for another round.

“This is going to hit you hard tomorrow,” he said.

They talked for a long time after that. Sara was a good listener, a good conversationalist too. She’d fit right into the politics of being a Pathfinder once the Archon was eliminated at last. His own heart threatened to fail him as she recounted SAM intentionally stopping hers. They shared about where they grew up -- the citadel versus all over the East Coast -- and he felt like he’d been to the well-loved apartment Sara called home. She laughed over memories of Scott, teased Harry about being single at his age, and told him about her farewell journey on Earth.

“I did it to be closer to her, in a way.” Sara sniffed. “Scott didn’t get it, dad either, but I know why now.” Her voice turned bitter.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you have a patient named Elizabeth Rilley?"

Harry had a lot of patients on the Hyperion. Technically they were all his patients now.

“I don’t recognize it, but that’s not to say I never worked with her. Is she on the ark?” Sara laughed, a sharp bark that cracked the mood. Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Is she in trouble?”

A few tears dribbled down her chin. She swept them away with the edge of a sleeve. “You could say that. She’s my mother.”

Alec was fucking insane.

“He put her into stasis with a terminal illness? What was he thinking?” Harry’s last patient with a terminal illness had been used as a terrorist weapon by the Roekkar.

“That’s why Scott and I were fighting, why you found me the way you did.” She wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “I’m a terrible daughter for not wanting this. But she was at peace before. How do we know this galaxy will hold the key to fixing her? We can’t exactly take her out of stasis without a cure. And I can't go back in.”

Harry had to reach out. He laid his hand on one of hers and knelt in front of her feet. Sara kept sniffling, eyes red yet fighting to stay open. She was exhausted, sitting here bleeding right in front of him. Every instinct told him to pick her up, take her to bed, tuck her in. But his instincts had been so terrible with Sara so far he worried about sending the wrong impression. Sara didn’t need his tending, she needed time to be young again. To smile and chat with strangers at bars and feel nervous about one night stands. To be the kind of person who visited the places her mother had lived and breathed when everyone else thought it wasn’t worth her time. There was too much pressure, and though she had to fix that one way or another, it didn't mean he felt good about it. 

"First, you're not a terrible daughter,” he said. “Not at all. But right now I think you need sleep. Can we talk more about this tomorrow?” Sara nodded into her chest, shifting sideways to rest against the side of the chair. He shook her hand. “I’m not letting you sleep like this, Sara.”

“I can’t take your bed,” she insisted. “You need to sleep in it. Too old for the floor.” She choked on a little laugh.

“Make as many old jokes as you want, you’re not changing my mind,” he said. Anything to stop her tears.

“Fine,” she said, unfurling from her cramped position. Sara stumbled and steadied herself on the back of the chair. He followed her across the kitchen, to his large, very heavy bed. He guided her elbow a few times, keeping her upright. The scotch was kicking in now that she’d stood. “That’s why you don’t have a couch,” she exclaimed after seeing his massive bed. “Liam has a nasty couch, but that’s about all he could bring. I would have given up all my stuff for a bed like this too.”

She jumped towards it, half landing, half stumbling forward in a graceless attempt to flounce on his fluffy covers. “You were right about that drink,” she said, laughing as he grappled to get her onto the bed in one piece.

“And you had three of them,” he said.

Sara pulled off her shoes, tossing them onto the floor. She scurried beneath the covers and threw one arm out to see how much room was left. “Harry,” she scolded. “You cannot _not_ sleep here.”

“That’s not--”

“Its like you said, you’re not looking for a ‘daring romance.’ I’m not worried about you being next to me and getting handsy, Doctor Carlyle.”

“Are you sure, Sara?”

She patted the bed. “Yup. I’m going to fall asleep in any minute here.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. How had the day ended this way? “Fine, but this was your idea, I hope you remember that in the morning and don’t hurt me first. I’m useless before my coffee and will have nothing cogent to say.”

“Yea, yea -- sleeping now.”

Harry left her to rest, picking up her shoes and setting them neatly by the nightstand. He cleaned up after their drinks, sorted the apartment to rights again, and stood in the doorway while Sara snored contentedly beneath his expensive sheets. She’d undone her ponytail and brown hair splayed across his pillow. It was true. He didn’t want a daring romance. But wouldn’t a plain, domestic romance look just like this?


	7. Chapter 7

Sara woke to the sight of Harry Carlyle shirtless and sleeping peacefully. Long, dark lashes fell against his cheek and the strong, steady cadence of his heavy breathing filled the entire apartment. The man was entirely too handsome most of the time, with a jaw cut from steel and a perma-shadow that suited his grizzled voice. In sleep though, a soft vulnerability marked his features. Sara’s primal urge was to cuddle him, to tuck in beneath his outstretched arm and let her heartbeat match his own, winding down to a state of comfort she hadn’t known in months.

Everything inside her begged to kiss him. She fought against herself, body unnaturally stiff in bed. Even though she was awake, this was all still just a dream. Harry didn't want her like that, despite finding her "refreshing" as he'd put it the night before. She hadn't been drunk enough to forget that. SAM broke through her reverie.

“Sara, Suvi is ready to speak with you on the Tempest,” SAM said inside her head. “She has a theory about how to find Meridian.” 

Damn, she had to leave. As darling as Harry looked, Sara had work to do. Slipping out of the sheets with the most grace she could muster, Sara wheeled her feet over the edge searching for her shoes without touching the cold floor. She found them and crept from the room, stopping only at a mirror to check her sleepy hair. Harry didn’t stir, and though she felt guilty leaving without a word, the sooner she found Meridian meant the sooner her life could return to some semblance of peaceful. They’d find their new home before the Archon did, and defend it with their lives.

 Before she could turn back and wake him, Sara forced herself to step out of the apartment and into the hall, closing the door silently behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

An alarm Harry didn’t even know existed jolted him out of sleep. A red strobe light had lowered from ceiling panel, braying the most terrible sound. His first instinct was to check on Sara, throwing a hand over to his left, but all that was there was an empty, cold spot. She’d left without saying goodbye, and damn if that didn’t sting. Fortunately, there wasn’t time for worrying about her reaction.

He dressed quickly, knowing if there was a screaming, ear-splitting alarm, it probably meant trouble. And trouble spelled casualties. Harry had never pulled on his red and white med bay uniform with so much urgency before, never managed to run out of his apartment without at least one shot of espresso either. It turned out no matter where he stayed in Andromeda, in the front line with Sara or back on the safe Hyperion, drama was bound to come calling.

The halls of the Nexus had gone from bright, shiny white to horror red. The general walkways were abandoned, the tram deserted as well. The tram announcer was stepping up to crisis mode though, explaining in his best, measured voice that despite not knowing what was happening, something was definitely wrong.

“All Nexus staff are urged to remain within their quarters or workstations. Return immediately. The Hyperion is overrun with unknown combatants. I repeat, return to your quarters or workstations immediately.”

Well he wasn’t Nexus staff -- Harry wasn’t going to turn tail and run back to the relative safety of his noisy room. The tram burst open, yet nothing looked amiss. Unknown combatants should be relatively easy to spot. Harry ran down the corridor to the main commons and as the sliding doors opened, people scurried in every direction. Some wore armor, others clearly had just started their mornings and were running back to their rooms. Scott appeared out of nowhere, already donning his Pathfinder team gear. Harry jogged to meet him at the center of the commons.

“What the hell is happening?”

Scott barely stopped to reply. “I wish I knew.” He ducked his head and raced off towards the security station, a panicked glaze across his eyes.

Gunfire ricocheted through the crowded space; several people went down. Harry’s heart began pumping rapidly as he ducked and slid over to the closest person injured. As he began calming the man with blood pouring out of his side, one of the kett came into view, narrowing his sights on the man in the bright red and white jumpsuit. Harry cursed his uniform, shielding his patient with his body as the kett lined up a shot.

 _I should have told Sara the full truth,_ he thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Sara was sick to death of vaults. If after this day she never had to step foot in one of those dark, dank and drippy mazes again, she’d die a happy woman. This vault was crawling with the Archon’s forces. Cora and Vetra worked magically together. Cora would prime up a kett above a pack of enemies and Vetra would use her concussive shot to spray the field with the debris of their ally. Between the three of them they were making great progress towards the Archon, towards Scott.

Sara couldn’t believe at first what the Archon had said. Scott was somehow his captive, and SAM as well. And even though she and Scott were mad at one another, there was no way she was letting that despicable science experiment harm him anymore than he already had.

They raced down to a new hall before Suvi spoke into their comms.   

“Sara, multiple system failures on the Hyperion.”

Sara’s stomach sank. All those people. Harry... She suddenly wished she’d said goodbye that morning.

“Dammit,” she swore. “Dunn, is there anything we can do?”

“Stay out of our way,” Dunn replied. “There’s no pulling up. This is the captain. I need everyone to Cryo -- I’m rerouting power to all medbay intertials. I can give us one shot.”

Sara held her breath. Regardless of what happened she still had to save Scott, stop the Archon. But all those human lives that had been depending on her, awake to know it or not, they mattered too. Her mother, sleeping peacefully under an alias for hundreds of years -- she mattered more than she would ever know. Sara held in a choked sob. Sara didn’t want her mom's life to end this way, not when it came down to it. If there was a chance for her to come back...

Captain Dunn spoke over the comms again. “It’s been an honor to serve--” She broke off, a loud crash was all they could hear on the other end until the line went dead.

“Captain Dunn? Captain Dunn!”

Sara’s heartbeat echoed in her ears. It couldn’t be. Not after everything she’d went through to find these people a home. Tearing herself apart, tearing her family apart. First her dad, now her mom. 

 _And Harry,_ she thought.The realization that she cared so much rocked through her, and not just a matter of pride, that she'd been turned down after amazing sex. He was special, he understood her, was kind to her, sent her chocolates even when he needed space. It was too late, too impossibly late now to realize that he’d made a lasting impression on her heart. Too late to start over from an even playing field and just be honest about what she wanted. So what if he was reluctant? She'd never tried to talk to him evenly, like an adult instead of a love-sick kid with a crush. She was far past that by now. Harry was exactly what she wanted in a partner.

“The cryo pods are intact,” Suvi said suddenly. "But comms are down in the bridge. We're getting nothing." Sara’s knees nearly buckled in relief, despite feeling for Captain Dunn. Hope still existed for her mom. Hope existed for her and Harry. 

With all that hope finally on her side, Sara gathered up all the anger and disappointment from the last few months and squished that feeling into a giant ball of motivation. No one was stopping her from reaching Scott. No one was stopping them from kicking the Archon’s ass once and for all.

“Everyone listening?” She snapped into the comms. “That means humanity staying here long term. Anyone who disagrees? We’re sending them to the captain.”


	8. Chapter 8

Boarding the Hyperion while it while it was grounded sent a shiver through Sara. Its front rested precipitously at the edge of massive cliff and had it coasted a few hundred more feet, the entire ship would have tipped into the crevice. So close, they’d come so close to the end of humanity in Andromeda. She raced up the temporary gangplank to the lowest set of loading bays and elbowed her way inside. People let her pass. She'd just been broadcast to all the outposts in the cluster. Sara Ryder was now a bonafide hero. 

Before anyone could drag her into a celebratory party, Sara talked privately with Scott, already reassured him that things were going to be okay, that she was on the same page about mom. The relief that crossed his face was enough to make her want to cry. But there was no time. Sara had to find Harry next, to spill out her feelings and thoughts that only near-death experiences could clarify. She raced down to the med bay, the most obvious of locations to find her tidy doctor. At this point, he was hers. He just didn't know it yet. 

The med bay was fuller than it had been in months. Now there were people lying in beds with injuries sustained during the crash, and wounds from the kett that had infiltrated the ship looking for Scott. Sara couldn't help but feel a little bad about that too. It was her fault when the place was empty, and her fault when it was full. At least Harry had something to keep him busy. That would be a way to ease him into a relationship. A bored man was a useless man. But a stressed, busy man required plenty of physical activity to keep the pressure off. Sara was ready to supply it. 

Harry spotted her first, rising up on his elbows in a bed not too far down from where Scott had been kept. As Sara started towards his office, Harry shouted from where he was reclined. 

"Sara, back here."

She spun on her heel. Her jaw dropped. Harry was shirtless, with a thick layer of gauze near his neck and what looked like dried blood on his chest. Her heart was pounding like crazy, blocking coherent questions from forming. She stutter-stepped towards his bed at the back of the bay. Harry reached for her as she came closer, grabbing her hands as she stretched her fingertips to just touch his cheek. Was he hurt? How had this happened?

"The kett are lousy shots," he joked. 

She looked down at where their hands were joined. This was real? Right? Words were still fumbling in her brain, straining to come out wrong. She tried anyway.

"Were you... what happened to... I thought you..."

He squeezed her hand. "We all thought we were gone for too. At least, the rest of them did. I never stopped believing we'd make it somehow."

A little tear formed at the corner of an eye. She raised their joined hands to swipe it away. "You had a lot of faith then."

"No -- just confidence in your abilities. I bargained I had to live. There was still so much I have to do, amends to make." He wrapped their fingers together and yanked her closer. "I hope you'll let me."

Sara had never heard sweeter words in her entire life. 

"You're never going to get rid of me now, Doctor Carlyle. I hope you know that."

He pulled her down for a kiss, wincing a little from his neck wound as he leaned towards her ear to whisper. "And from the beginning I told you I'd never stop. It seems I have a lot to make up for." 

Sara closed her eyes as his voice washed over her. Oh, there was a lot to make up for, but she had a feeling that would be the very best part. 

 

* * *

 

 

As his doctor, Lexi had told Harry that he needed at least a week before resuming any  _physical activities_. She said it with a cheeky smile, full well knowing what Harry was eager for. As the Hyperion's newest head of medical, and thereby Meridian's head of medical, she was the one to listen to. Harry was glad Lexi had taken his place on the Tempest those few months ago -- it had given both of them perspective. She was done with the adventure, stressed enough for a break from it, and he was done with missing Sara. He probably still shouldn't have been her doctor, but in this new world, it really didn't matter too much. 

Now a week had passed and Harry was cleared for anything. He walked backed to where the Tempest was parked on a cliff. It rested proudly above the valley where Sara had fought the Archon's forces. He still couldn't believe what a fighter his girlfriend was, and how in comparison he was a complete pacifist on the wrong end of things, but for now everything had calmed down. Meridian had a long way to go to be ready for civilization, and Sara was still eager to help other planets get their vaults back online. She still hated entering a vault every single time, but his Sara was committed to seeing the work done. It was one of the things he loved best about her. 

Harry boarded the Tempest and went down to find her, very much hoping Sara was in her quarters, alone. To his delight, she was alone, and barely dressed. Uniform pressed and clean on the bed, Sara pulled up her hair into a ponytail. Harry crept up behind her and snagged the elastic out of her hand, her hair falling down to her shoulders. 

"Hey!" she said. 

"Guess who has been cleared?"

Sara wheeled around and nearly pounced. "I can't wait any longer. Thank the stars."

Harry laughed, letting her push him back on the bed and settle over his waist, tearing off her sports bra and nuzzling into his neck. 

"Aren't we, ah, moving a little fast?"

Sara sat back up, beautiful chest in full view. She twisted her hair to the side and pushed it behind a shoulder. Gorgeous. This woman took his damn breath away. "Are you suddenly nervous? Afraid you won't be able to perform as well now that you're so much older? Like, almost 700 years, Harry." 

He rolled her over to her back. "When you put it that way, you're as old as I am now. What's 20 years in the face of 633 added ones?"

Sara ground against him, eager to get moving, all hesitation from before wiped away. That was a result of hard-won confidence. And knowing that your partner isn't going anywhere anytime soon. He bent forward to kiss her, sucking on a soft bottom lip before widening her mouth to tease her tongue. She groaned softly, sick of waiting and waiting and waiting for this second time. 

"Isn't it better if we draw this out?" She had already unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out by that point, getting him fully hard in a matter of seconds. 

"Not if you want to keep this," she teased, stroking him steadily. "Hot, fast and hard, doctor. That's what I need."

"If that's the case..."

Harry swooped her up. It felt good to have her in his arms. She was pretty compact, for as strong as she was. Still, he'd lifted heavier crates of medical supplies. He could take a little hot, fast and hard against the wall. He steered them opposite the bed, full well knowing anyone could hear them in the adjacent crew quarters. They would just have to get used to it for a while. Sara's back hit the wall and she gasped as the cold bite of steel pressed against her flesh. She ripped his shirt off as they reached the spot, balancing just right to free her hands. Harry pulled aside her underwear and thrust inside her just as quick. Sara moaned loud, then covered her mouth with a hand. 

"That was quite the shout, Sara," Harry teased. "Has it been awhile since your last time?"

She shivered against him as he continued to thrust up into her. Her hands roamed over her shoulders, careful of where he'd been grazed with a bullet. 

"The last time..." she rolled her eyes back as his thumb crept up between them, stroking and circling her above where they were joined. Sara pressed back her shoulders, thrusting her breasts forward. It was his turn to groan as he kissed one then the other. "Ahh," she continued. "You know when it was."

"And I've missed the feel of you every second since then." She shivered, pushing into him as hard as he gave, riding the rhythm together. 

"I love it when you... ah, talk to me."

He grinned, unable to keep a bit of pride out of his voice when he whispered, "And I love it when you come on me." Sara was panting now, riding the edge of an orgasm, hands scrabbling, legs tightening around his waist, and if he could look back he guaranteed he'd see her toes pointing. He thrust just a bit harder, whispering all sorts of ideas of what to do next in her ear. 

Sara let out a half-strangled "yes!" before she tightened around him, dragging him into climax too. 

They both nearly buckled once they were done coming together. Sara laughed as she caught herself against the wall, and Harry shook his head as she yanked him close. Her hair was a mess and his pants were barely unbuttoned but halfway down his ass. They looked like a pair of teenagers fucking before the parents came home. Harry kissed her again, tasting the sweat on her lip and the sweetness of her tongue. She ran her hands through his hair and only pulled back to look him in the eyes. 

"I'm glad you were my last in the Milky Way."

"Me too," he replied. "I wouldn't have wanted it any other way, Sara. My last night on Earth turned out to be something even better."

"What's that?" she asked, stars in her eyes for the way she looked at him now. 

"The start of the rest of our lives."  

 


	9. Epilogue: Several Months Later

Sara leaned out over the edge of the metal deck, dark hair fluttering in the breeze. The crystal clear water below reflected the light of glowing sun, setting in all its glory. The evenings on Meridian were gorgeous, and with Sara standing there in her long, backless dress, Harry couldn't think of a more appealing sight. He crept up behind her without her noticing and wrapped his arms around her front. She jumped a little, then shivered as he rubbed his cheek against her neck. Goosebumps ran down her arms. 

"What would you name it?" he whispered, pointing towards the small bay. 

Sara laughed, remembering the first time she'd heard that line. Way back to the night they'd met. Sara leaned into his hold, resting her head on his shoulder while Harry kissed the side of her face. "We've been over this before," she said. "I'm terrible with names."

"You can't let me decide," he said. "Otherwise it will be a matter of months before I realize the obvious answer was in front of me the whole time."

"As long as you figure it out in the end, I can wait," Sara said. 

They stood together in their new home watching the sun fully set over the unnamed bay. Now that they'd made up, there was all the time in the world to piece out exactly what came next. Harry couldn't wait for the adventure.


End file.
